In Search Of
by Burst of Inspiration
Summary: Hadrian, a knight traveling from the war-torn lands of the far east, descends upon the decrepit kingdom of Drangleic in search of answers. His resolve, his wants, and even his soul will be tested as he uncovers horrors and truths alike. As the pawns of fate move across the board, choices must be made. Choices that only a true monarch could make, if such a thing exists...
1. Chapter 1

**A.N. Hello Dark Souls community. This is a sort of pilot chapter for a grander story that has been rattling in my brain for a few months now. Getting it all down in writing was pretty fun and as things (hopefully) go on, expanding the narrative should prove to be a challenge and a fun exercise. Anyways let me know what you all think of the first chapter via review and any complaints/questions you may have! On a side note, all reviewers of a current or from previous chapters going forward will be mentioned in the next chapter through a reviewer feedback section of the Author's Note.**

 **P.S. Certain game mechanics and enemy placements will be rearranged/missing from the story for better narrative flow.**

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Decaying is never a short process. A corpse does not become rotten and fetid overnight, the affair takes weeks to accomplish. The decaying of a kingdom, however, spans decades, centuries...perhaps ages. Hadrian pondered upon this thought for a fleeting moment as he passed the rotting bark of a lifeless tree before dashing it away. Such notions were better left to prattling old men...

Despite his lack of enthusiasm for the subject, he was no stranger to decay, or more specifically the final stage of it: death. The man had been a part of numerous operations in his homeland, the knives strapped to his person and the polished shortsword and dagger sheathed at each hip were a testament to that.

His current destination was swathed in the whispers of rumor and mystery by many a folk. They called the land: Drangleic. The name was not unfamiliar to him but the stories that circulated the supposedly degraded kingdom were not pleasant, and any person with their wits about them would steer clear of such a place.

' _Unfortunately, sanity is a rare commodity in these times._ ' He thought, a humorless grin tugging at the edges of his face, shadowed by the hood of his darkened cloak.

The more fantastical rumors spoke of powerful essences slumbering in the folds of Drangleic and if the legends are true, a way to stave off the curse of undeath.

The curse. Hadrian took a reprieve from his trek through the dense and thick forest to reflect upon the very thing that drove him onwards towards that place. Tales of the undead cropping up not only in his homeland but in far off lands were not uncommon in the hushed whispers of taverns and behind closed doors. It was said people who were branded by the curse were to become mindless husks of their former selves, destined to prey upon others indiscriminately.

The knight raised his head to see the dull green leaves of the tall oak trees, their color in stark contrast with the backdrop of red and orange, signaling the setting of the sun. He was sure that he needed to prepare for camp soon, lest he be subjected to the elements of the cold night. He traveled further through the thicket of tree trunks and foliage until the bitterness of the wind penetrated his attire, a freeze burrowing into his very bones.

Taking up camp around the myriad of trees, the campfire crackled as wood and bark burned in a collected pile. Various sized stones were placed around the fire in a misshapen circle and a roasting skewered woodland creature was perched just above the flames, held up by two wooden posts. As the lone knight's cloudy emerald orbs watched the dancing blaze cook his dinner he excogitated on the forty-three days and nights since his departure. He had traveled westward, voyaging over the mountains in his search. The journey had been rough and perilous but Hadrian knew that he was close, he could feel it in the soil and earth that he walked upon, in the wind that blew like a screeching banshee. Yes, the knight knew that he was very close indeed, the looming atmosphere of what lay ahead acting as a warning to those foolish enough to venture beyond reason and rationality.

The meat of the creature was tough and tasteless, perhaps a reflection of the land that birthed it. If so, did the act of consuming such a creation entail that he too was now a part of the land? Was he destined to decay?

Hadrian knew such troubling thoughts were not to be dwelled upon and so with swift purpose he showered the campfire with dirt and soil until only fleeting embers remained. Clenching his dagger in one hand and wrapping his body in his cloak as best he could, Hadrian leaned against the bark of the nearest tree, the hood of his cloak partially protecting his head from the night. The sound of rustling branches on high, invisible through the dark, pulled the knight into a dreamless sleep and the last sensation he felt was a faint itching irradiating outwards from his left shoulder blade.

The following morning was uneventful, not even the chirping of birds could be heard as the early sunlight bore down on Hadrian, who had just taken the last swig from his metal canteen. He knew not when he would encounter more water but he hoped it was soon, sources of water had been becoming more sparse as of late. Stamping out the campfire and scattering the rocks and burned bark to cover his trail, the knight unsheathed his dagger, making the smallest of markings on the crust of the towering oak tree he had slept under. To the untrained eye it was not even noticeable but to him, it marked the way he had come, in the case of any event that may persuade his advancement. Shouldering the makeshift sack that contained items of a more mystical and miscellaneous nature under his cloak, he continued his journey westward.

It would be well into midday when the sun, in all its fiery glory, began to weigh down upon Hadrian, who was feeling the effects of mild dehydration. His lips were dry and the back of his throat felt like he had inhaled crisp sawdust from a carpenter's workshop. Suddenly, the faint sound of a bubbling stream could be overheard from his own footsteps and a sort of primal excitement gripped the warrior. He rushed past many a tree, the boles becoming chalky brown stalks in his vision as he ran faster and faster. Breaking free from the condensed forest he failed to realize in time the steep decline in elevation and upon losing his footing tumbled down the slope in a most ungraceful manner. Unable to grasp any sort of hand-hold or footing on the smooth rock as he descended, Hadrian stumbled over the edge and landed belly first into a babbling brook of fresh water.

Although the man felt a degree of pain and discomfort from the rocks efficaciously pushing against his skin and the slippery, cool water washing over his frame, he felt a thrill of delight that only came from the discovery of some wholesome necessity to the prolonging of one's existence. Lifting himself up as his expression morphed into one of concealed excitement, the knight moved to grab his canteen when a singular sound stopped him cold.

A snort that was more akin to a grotesque animal than anything resembling a human in origin invaded his ears and quickly thereafter the slow stomping of large feet. The sounds of bespattering water accompanied the noise that prophesied the immense weight and power of a creature altogether exoteric from Hadrian's knowledge and experience.

Raising his head as he established his footing amongst the stream bed, a mixed look of shock and horror were apparent as Hadrian gazed upon a monstrosity much larger than himself. A fat behemoth of terribly large proportions with an agape maw of gnarled rotten teeth and skin a dry bluish green texture, but its most startling and horrific feature was the singular eye that stared unblinkingly at him. Upon its crown jutted a small and stupid looking horn but Hadrian could study the beast's visage no longer for it charged furiously at him, kicking up pebbles and water alike in its wake.

Dodging the monster's lunging grasp narrowingly by a hand's breadth, Hadrian rolled into a crouching position on the bank of the stream, wet mud clinging in clumps to his cloak as he did so. The ogre-esque _thing_ was slow and unintelligent, looking back and forth between its two squat hands, dumbfounded that its prey had eluded capture.

The man knew that now this encounter would be a matter of life and death and in response to the monster's first move, he expertly drew a throwing knife from the many pockets in his leathers, and took aim with practiced form, delivering the blade deep into the ogre's arid flesh. It let out a garbled noise of discontent and turned towards the prey that had dared lashed out in retaliation. The gaze of the cycloptic abomination, Hadrian noticed, had become more hateful with each passing second, its wrinkled brow becoming more and more prominent.

Although the corpulence of the ogre was very evident when it rushed him a second time, the knight found that it was rather quick in its movements and strikes. Dodging under the armpit and brandishing his sword with great dexterity Hadrian tore into its backside, revealing fresh blood and muscle as the blade cut deep along its path.

This time, a massive roar could be heard erupting from the throat of the monster, its rage now apparent to anything that heard the thunderous outcry.

Gaining confidence in his ability to combat his first enemy in Drangleic, the knight drew another one of the many numbers of knives from his person and waited patiently for his adversary to charge him. The ogre, fueled by anger and adrenaline, blindly rushed forward with its stout arms outstretched and three-fingered hands anticipating greedily for the contact of human flesh.

Hadrian relaxed his arm, took a sharp breath and focused completely on the target. He imagined the knife connecting, he could envision his impending victory at hand. With an almost graceful ambulation, the knife flew through the air lodging itself squarely into the ogre's only eye socket.

Another howl from the beast, this time in pain as it helplessly tried to eject the foreign object, failing to grasp at anything with its stocky arms but its own skin. Taking advantage of the opportunity created by his own volition, Hadrian took off in a full sprint, gripping his sword in both hands and just as he was under the shadow of the ogre he leaped with a battle cry and plunged his blade full-force into its neck.

Blood seeped out from the wound at an alarming pace, and the ogre reeled back and buckled under its own massive weight. Now on top of his quarry, Hadrian twisted the blade, cutting the main artery and a thick spray of blood discharged in a gruesome display. A few moments later and all motion ceased from the now dead creature, with Hadrian silently thankful that at least some parts of beast's anatomy were related to mankind.

Dirty, slightly winded, and somewhat bloodsoaked but very much alive Hadrian yanked his bloodied sword out from its latest kill and strolled back to the side of the stream. Cleaning his blade and bathing his muddy cloak in the clear water, the knight reflected upon the rumors of abhorrent and vile creatures and deduced that so far they were not just wild speculation.

His thirst quenched and his metal canteen filled to the brim, Hadrian inspected his knapsack to find that, thankfully, everything was still in useable condition and the more...fragile cargo had not broken.

He glanced back at his conquered foe and surmised that leaving such a plentiful amount of meat would be imprudent, so unsheathing his dagger as he walked over the man gutted and cut out a few slabs of meat to be wrapped up. Taking a closer look at the structure of the ogre's innards, the tough bone formation of the ribcage hinted that its weak points were from behind and the head. Hadrian realized that he had gotten fortunate, and filled the information in case he ever came upon another one of its ilk.

After retrieving his used throwing knives, the man began wrapping the acquired food in his cleaned but damp cloak, where he placed it in his knapsack. The pack bulging as he did so, signaling that its capacity was being overstretched.

With the washing of his bloodied dagger, ranged weaponry and burdening of his pack done, Hadrian turned toward the curved way ahead and followed the path with his eyes, finding that it lead to an enormous tree trunk that scaled the length of the vertical cliff that it rested upon. He squinted his eyes to make out what seemed to be a corner tower to some sort of larger stone structure, however, the tower was blanketed with an overgrowth of vegetation so severe that the constituents of stone were barely visible. The surface of the tree seemed to be a mixture of predominantly rotting white bark with seldom dark streaks of healthy dark brown. Viewing such degradation and neglect revealed to Hadrian that maybe the kingdom of Drangleic was already past the point of rot and decay. Perhaps this land was already dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N. Hey again Dark Souls Community! Dropping the second installment here. Like I said last chapter certain enemy placements and game mechanics will be changed for plot and narrative purposes, such as permadeath, no teleporting with bonfires (only in specific circumstances), and the use of souls as currency to buy items. This will be a sort of hyper-realistic take on the Dark Souls II narrative.**

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A hollowed infantryman raspily groaned as it wildly brought its rusted, broken sword down in a telegraphed slash that was easily parried by Hadrian's dagger. The flickering embers of life sputtered out from the hollow's sunken-in eyes when the knight impaled it through the chest and the now dead husk clattered to the earth as Hadrian kicked the body away, drawing out his sword in the process. It was the final hollow to assault him on his way to the base of the giant tree and the man had left a trail of corpses in his wake.

Hadrian stared apathetically at his beaten adversary, whose body and limbs were resting in an obtuse fashion. This was the fate that befalls those who succumb to the curse. To go hollow was to lead a weak, lifeless existence void of any real or tangible pleasure. He found it almost tragic. Just almost.

Fluidly stepping over the corpse, as if it were a natural occurrence for him, Hadrian entered the rather large opening in the trunk of the great tree and had spotted the strange entrance as it had come into view. He found a wooden ladder that ascended to the edge of the cliff he had witnessed earlier, and the thought of turning back suddenly crossed his mind for a moment but surely he had already faced the worst of the trails, and so with renewed confidence he vigorously scaled the ladder.

Reaching the apex and taking in the new sight, the knight found what looked like the remnants of a skirmish as the bodies of hollowed infantrymen were strewn across the ground. The interior of the stonework architecture was even more dilapidated that of what could be viewed from the outside, with crumbling ancient walls that were covered so thick in verdancy one could not even see the cast of gray stone. There was no ceiling and sunlight beat down without rest from the sun's zenithal position. Most peculiar was a lone white-garbed knight that sat resting in the middle of the clearing. The knight was leaning against an assemblage of tree trunks that rose together only to twist and arch outwards in thoughtless designs, reaching well beyond what Hadrian could see.

Taking a tentative first step, Hadrian was unsure if the unmoving man-at-arms was approachable or even alive. He silently armed himself with his dagger, inching closer and closer until he was not but a few feet away. Hadrian saw that the knight's attire consisted of rusted chainmail with a tattered white cape alongside worn metal gauntlets and greaves whose surface was tarnished from age and usage.

"Do you have your wits about you knight? What say you, hmm?" Hadrian spoke, his voice commanding attention. The Heide knight said nothing in response, the only implication of his continuing existence was the slow and shallow breathing that could be heard if one strained their ears hard enough.

A few long tense moments passed before Hadrian let a breath out through his nostrils and shook his head. He turned heel, leaving the mute knight to his own devices. Heading left and avoiding the bodies of the lifeless hollows, he advanced towards a dark corridor that, upon closer inspection, was a dense collection of twisting, interconnecting tree roots that tunneled downwards and opened up to a seemingly underground passageway. Using one arm against the wall for support and being mindful of the many roots that jutted outwards, as if to purposefully trip him, Hadrian journeyed through the descending passage. The lack of sunlight darkened the way, causing the knight to slow his advancement and feel his way forward.

As he reached the end he could see a faint flickering light and observed a simple four cross chandelier that held withering candlesticks on each end, with only two still burning. It was visible through a collapsed wall, which had broken outwards towards him. A mound of crumbled and broken bricks laid at the opening, almost acting as a slipshod stairway.

Crossing over from organic footing to hard stone, Hadrian heard the groaning of more hollowed men, no doubt waiting to ambush an unsuspecting traveler. Taking the left walkway that would undoubtedly wrap around to that room, the knight's trained reflexes saved him from a slash of a corroded blade when he leaped back just in the knick of time. The hollow's strike had come from the next turn in the path and it struck the side of the corridor with a resounding _clang_ , catching the attention of the other hollows in wait.

The cover of stealth blown, Hadrian knew he had to dispatch at least one of them before they amassed in number. Noting how confined the stone corridor was, he rushed in with his dagger and whirled around the corner, deftly piercing the green ghoulish flesh of the hollow's neck and ripping it out along the width of its neckline. He leaned his body backward against the cool and faded milky stonewall so that the jet of blood that erupted from the wound wouldn't splatter him.

A gargle was all that the hollow could produce as it crumpled to the ground, and with life having left its broken body only a growing pool of blood kept it company now.

Drawing his shortsword, he listened intently for the shufflings of the two remaining hollows, one of which appeared from the doorway after a few moments. Leaping towards the unsuspecting victim with his sword poised, Hadrian speared the hollowed soldier's body, the momentum of the attack knocking the hollow backward inside the chamber it previously inhabited and, more importantly, into its ally.

Temporarily without his primary weapon, he altered the grip on his dagger so that the bloodied blade was pointed downwards and quietly stalked into the secondary room. His eyes found the punctured hollow now dead and on top of the only remaining living one, who was struggling to remove the weight of his dead companion.

Hadrian, bearing down on his enemy oppressively, pushed down on the hilt of his sword, making sure the end of the blade tore past dead organs, flesh and ruined armor to administer pain and injury.

The hollow gasped and grunted, a sign that Hadrian had accomplished his ghastly task, and began to flail widely in a sad attempt to remedy its hopeless situation. He pushed harder still and more outbursts of gasps came trickling out from the hollow's throat.

"Tell me _hollow_ ," Hadrian spoke, putting a biting emphasis on the last word. "What do you see? Is there some sort of truth or unseen reality that normal men cannot hear or view?" The hollow only reply was with the moans of the dead and dying.

"I suppose not then," He said after a few moments. Hadrian could tell from the hollowed soldier's eyes that there was only a dark insanity dwelling in the depths of its consciousness.

He let a dry, humorless chuckle escaped from his throat. "You only live in a realm of maddening emptiness now, consider my blade a mercy."

As he spoke those final words, the knight shoved the blade down with all his might and wrenched it sideways, not doubt gashing the undead hollow terribly. Another loud groan of pain rose up into the air before the man removed his sword from both of his fallen enemies and turned away to carry on his way. It would take many excruciatingly painful minutes before the hollow would pass into merciful oblivion.

The light from the hanging candlesticks was not nearly enough for Hadrian to see all the way down the long stretch of the hallway before him, luckily there looked to be stairs heading upwards at the end of the passage and dim sunlight poured forth from above, promising a sure-fire course to open sky.

Traveling up the stone staircase Hadrian could see another wooden ladder that ascended to an even higher perch on some grander part of the crumbling hollow-infested garrison.

Once he could clearly see the sky the knight took in the scenery immediately around him and found that he was standing on the lengthy expanse of a moss-covered rampart, with its magnitude reaching several tens of meters towards the way he had come.

Hadrian walked to the edge and surveyed a sprawling breadth of ruin that looked to be teetering on the brink of collapse and yet it was strikingly majestic in its indefatigable struggle to maintain shape. He realized that this fortress must have been an important strategic point to whoever had been in command over it, for it was extraordinarily large in size, almost seeming too gigantic to be handled by the likes of men.

The ladder led to an even more astonishing view of the surrounding area, and rickety wooden scaffolding could be accessed to lower oneself to the ground many meters below. Hadrian's attention was momentarily absorbed as he gazed out at the horizon, an imposing black castle could be seen jetting out from behind a set of ominous crags and even further beyond was the mightily tall mountain range that now seemed endlessly far away, all under the veil of bleak gray clouds.

And for a moment, Hadrian felt a queer feeling of insignificance in the face of such staggeringly large scenery, but it was dashed away by an insistent itching emanating from his back.

Turning away from the breathtaking but strangely foreboding view, the knight bore witness to a hollowed knight trying to sneak up on him and promptly sidestepped the thrust of its slender greatsword when it attacked him. Taking hold of its weathered breastplate and tattered undershirt, Hadrian flung the hollow over the edge to plummet down to the earth below. The unmistakable sound of corporeal form meeting soil could be heard just a few moments thereafter and with his enemy dispatched, the man approached the set of large ornate cast iron doors that blocked the entrance to a tower that reached a mere four stories higher from his current location.

The doors had engravings depicting various flowing patterns of flora that were welded into the metal, however, the designs no longer held their beauty as rust and age had eaten away any formerly held grander.

Hadrian leaned against the cool dark metal, placing one palm on each door and pushed with all his strength. It was remarkably heavy, and Hadrian strained his muscles to even slightly open the way forward.

Digging in with the soles of his feet, he grunted in exertion as he pushed again, refusing to let a mere door bar his advance. The tremendously old hinges creaked loudly in protest, but they relented and the room ahead was revealed as the doors slowly swung open.

Two faded white pillars, wrapped in twisting tree roots traveled up towards the ceiling before a crackling bonfire that illuminated the body and face of a womanly statue carved into the opposing wall.

The heat of the fire was welcoming, the warmth penetrating through Hadrian's leathers as he grew closer. He knelt close to the flames as they licked upwards, never reaching more than a foot or so in length. Resolute to taking a short hiatus from his journey, the knight unburdened himself of his pack and took a long drink of water.

"Quite the land you've come to, eh stranger? Keh heh heh..." A raspy, grating voice spoke.

Hadrian quickly whirled around to find a wizened old hag slouched in the corner of the room, her face and body hidden by a grime-ridden green cloak.

"Oh come now, there's no need to be so jumpy. You seem to be the type of fellow of being able to handle a few hollows, and that's all what's left 'round these parts. Keh heh heh..."

The woman's cackling laughter was cut short by a fit of violent and onerous coughing. Hadrian observed her long boney fingers that seemed almost unnatural in shape when she brought her hand to cover her mouth. The old woman's strangest characteristic was the large roofed wooden crate that was roped to her back. Sacks of unknown contents could be seen from the gaps in the wood and the crate looked to be filled to the brim with them.

"What is a lonely indigent like yourself doing in such a place?" Hadrian questioned, relaxing just a fraction when he could see no visible weapon.

Another bout of wheezy laughter; "Why don't you help a poor old woman and buy something?" She said in an almost pleading manner, making a motion to her wares. "I'll be inclined to tell you then..."

The man narrowed his eyes in incredulity and suspicion. Surely this witch was trying to swindle him out of his coin...but information was a valuable commodity...

"First, tell me your name. Pleasantries should be free, don't you think?"

"My name's Melentia. It's quite clear that you are a stranger 'round here, but all we get nowadays are strangers. Everybody's gone and run off! Keh heh..."

"You know about this place then?" He asked but the hag didn't respond, only outstretching her palm towards him, the wrinkled leathery texture of her skin viewable in the light of the bonfire.

Hadrian realized that he would get nowhere unless he threatened or bargained and the former left an undesirable taste in his mouth.

Pulling out a few gold coins, he made his way over, Melentia chuckling as he did and the old merchant began to pull out an assortment of items.

"What is that?" Hadrian asked, his curiosity provoked at a particularly ancient-looking stone cube that seemed able to fit into a mechanism of some nature.

"This here's a special little thing. A lockstone of Pharros. Used to unlock his contraptions, wherever they may be..."

Pharros was a name the knight recognized, a legend of sorts known throughout many lands as a vagabond who created complex devices for the unlucky and unfortunate. Hadrian had never seen any of the rumored contraptions, but having a key to one would be beneficial should he happen upon such.

He tossed the coins in her waiting palm and took the lockstone in trade. "Thank you kindly Keh heh heh..."

The old hag's laughter and voice were most unpleasant to his ears but he needed the information she possessed. "You have knowledge of this place do you not? Out with it."

"Drangleic's been a pile o' rubble since the war fought long, long ago. When the Giants crossed the sea." Malentia whispered the last part as if these Giants were still present.

"Giants? I've never heard of such things."

The old woman carried on as if she didn't hear him; "They say these trees grew from the remains of the Giants. From each carcass sprouted new life growing into what you see now..." She gestured to the gnarled roots above their heads.

A slight involuntarily chill ran up Hadrian's spine. A forest full of once living beings was macabre, even to him.

"But you know what they also say? "Don't believe what an old hag says!" Keh heh..."

Hadrian couldn't decipher if she was jesting or not, so he decided to ignore such ramblings; "You were talking about the war long ago?"

" Ah yes, it seemed like the battles would never end. Poor folk like myself had nary a place to sleep. That's why I keep all me things right with me."

The knight was now sure she was mad. Surely one could not have lived for such a lengthy period of time, at least not in a way that retained any sense of sanity.

Malentia pointed a gaunt finger at him; "You may travel light, but methinks you bear a burden of your own."

"Do not pretend to know my troubles." Hadrian spat, his eyes narrowing in disdain only to be meet with another croak of laughter.

Seeing no further use for the elderly woman Hadrian returned to his spot by the fire, placing the newly acquired artifact into his pack.

Taking another glance at the fire before him, he noticed the pile of white ash and bleached bones at the base of the bonfire. He realized suddenly that these grim remains were the kindling and fuel for the dark orange flames. The cracked skull sat facing him, its empty eye sockets seeming to stalk him.

' _I have not even been to this land for a day and yet madness and monsters are around every corner... What a hellish place this_ _is._ '

The creaking of wood and tinkling of a small lantern could be heard as the old hag Malentia rose from her spot. "Well, It's high time that I pick up and move."

Hadrian was positive there was no safe place for someone like her but said nothing as the old woman made her way to the doors. Her livelihood was not his concern.

"I've a bargain for you, next time we meet, my love. Keh heh..."

The coarse laugh rang in his ears many minutes after Malentia had left. He needed to find the answers he sought quickly, lest this land twist him into a gibbering madman...

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 **A.N.** **Leave your thoughts in a review!**


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